


Love is Overrated

by orphan_account



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Depictions of death and injury, Gen, Hans is a dirty boy, Masturbation, Other, WARNING: Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd been unfortunately hard for a ridiculously long time. Apparently not even the cold could dissuade his anatomy. He felt his back arch off of the plush covers beneath him, the expensive fabric rubbing against his skin, heightening his senses and causing another moan to slip over his lips. He could see them now, impaled on the sharp point of his sword, pretty faces frozen in horror that it was him all along, crimson blood spilling from their bodies.<br/>-<br/>Hans has a dirty secret, an extremely dirty secret.</p><p>WARNINGS FOR NECROPHILIA, VIOLENCE AND DEATH</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is Overrated

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this, except it's time to introduce Disney to the dark side, and Hans is such a gorgeously complex character. 
> 
> I am indebted to Luna for pretty much everything.

He'd been unfortunately hard for a ridiculously long time. Apparently not even the cold could dissuade his anatomy. He'd suffered through it for the sake of his plans, choosing instead to play his role of the gallant Prince Charming, helping the poor innocent citizens of Arendelle. Oh, the ambitions he had for these poor, poor citizens. 

His cock twitched in his pants, sparking with interest, reminding him of his situation. He strode a little faster through the gloomy halls of the palace, tugging his gloves from his fingers, heading towards the nearest bedroom. It wasn't dignified, but the prickling need at the base of his spine was beginning to irritate him, and he knew by now there was one way to fix his little 'problem'. He made sure to lock the door firmly behind him as his fingers began to fumble hastily with his buttons and necktie. 

He'd discovered his curious quirk as he was maturing, and the boys downstairs started to become a little more important. His brothers told him that beautiful women were the key, and he saw them often enough, and the activities they got up to, but try as he might, women just didn't do it for him. 

Their bloodied, bruised corpses on the other hand ... 

The crotch of his trousers was becoming uncomfortably tight and he abandoned his waistcoat and shirt, pulling off his boots and trousers as he collapsed backwards on to the bed, hands snaking their way down his body. He flexed his fingers before gripping his cock firmly in his hand, a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips. The last time he had been as hard as this was when his great uncle had died. The thought sent pleasurable tingles coursing through him, jolting down into his throbbing member. A small smile edged it's way on to his lips as he began to stroke himself, slow and teasing, admiring the way his body looked. 

The plans he had for those sisters. 

He rubbed at his slit softly with the pad of his thumb, coaxing precum out to slick his hand and smooth his actions. He felt his back arch off of the plush covers beneath him, the expensive fabric rubbing against his skin, heightening his senses and causing another moan to slip over his lips. 

He could see them now, impaled on the sharp point of his sword, pretty faces frozen in horror that it was _him_ all along, crimson blood spilling from their bodies. Their big, bright eyes would slowly dim, warm skin give in to the chilly pallor of death, muscles slump as that last breath was expired. He started to work himself faster, hips bucking into his fist, desperate for more friction, his mind filled up with vivid images of their pale, lifeless corpses. And he, he would rise above them all, stand over their unoccupied carcasses to be the true King of Arendelle. Wouldn't his brothers be jealous then. 

He could feel a mounting pressure building up inside him, a white hot burning need. He would kill them, he alone would have the power to end their pathetic lives, to take all they loved and reduce it to dust. His balls tightened and his bit his lip accordingly, attempting to unsuccessfully silence the moan that bubbled up inside him. His hand tugged almost frantically at his hard dick, every second blending into a blissfully agonising torture as he searched for release. 

Oh how jealous they would be! How utterly shocked they would be to find their little joke of a brother in a position they’d never thought he would achieve. He could see their faces now. Seeing the way they would squirm at being wrong about him. Being wrong that he couldn’t ever get anything more than being one of their lap dogs. He would get his revenge on them, all of them.  
The heat mounted, coiling low in his stomach, a spring that wound tighter and tighter with every careful stroke of his desperate hand. He bucked wildly, no doubt crumpling his waistcoat irreparably. He couldn't bring himself to care. 

He imagined their blood, scarlet fountains spilling forth from weak, painfully mortal bodies. The scream he could rip from their throats. Especially that idiot Anna. How stupid was she, how naive to trust him, to agree to marry him after knowing him for less than a day. He would save her for last, savouring the look on her face as she slowly bled to death. Or maybe he would be more inventive. Maybe he would chain her up and starve her, leave her to waste away in the depths of some pit, strip her of her royal luxuries. Maybe he would drown her, in remembrance of her parents, or set her out to fend against the wolves. It would have to be slow, painful, excruciatingly beautiful to watch. 

With a final stroke he came undone, hot spurts of his cum spilling into his hand, a grunt breaching his lips. White hot sparks danced across his vision, his whole body tensing for a second before relaxing into the warm glow that followed. He raised his palm, delighting in being disgusting and lapping his own cum from his hand, the salty taste dancing cross his tongue as his cock softened again. His mind strayed back to the cadavers of the two royal princesses, motionless, dead at his hand. 

He couldn't wait.


End file.
